


Spilled Oil in the Night

by xxSoliusxx



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: Church of the Broken God, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Ive read so much mekhanite/sarkic tales and lore and i still cant figure out the coherent timeline, Oneshot, Romantic Fluff, honorable bumaro mention, so dont take this too seriously i have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28076994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxSoliusxx/pseuds/xxSoliusxx
Summary: Hedwig finds Trunnion stumbling down a dark alleyway.
Relationships: Legate Trunnion/Saint Hedwig
Kudos: 5





	Spilled Oil in the Night

Lingering near the edges of a sleeping city, a saint blindly rushed past the mouths of alleyways. Her nose was buried in the faint glow of a translucent tablet while her other hand palmed the handle of a sleek pistol. 

Despite the unordinary soft blue light rising from visible digital implants dotting her body, there was little in the way of curious onlookers. Clouds swathed the stars and the streets were dark and silent, void of color save for the flickering death throes of neon signs across storefronts. Metal plating gave way to quiet creaks in the still night air, the saint hurrying across the street as coordinates shifted on the digital map illuminated in her palm. Landing on the opposite sidewalk, the hologram in her palm snapped to a close and she paused, cautiously peering down the mouth of the dismally dark alleyway before her.

The saint’s internal systems quickly fired up with a faint hum, cutting through the silence blanketing the empty street. She blinked, a familiar string of binary accordingly adjusting her eyesight and illuminating a stocky figure stumbling through the narrow alley between dark buildings. 

Even from here, Saint Hedwig could pick up the recognizable loud clanks and hisses of heavy machinery stomping toward her. There was an audible lack of rhythm in the figure’s gait and pavement crumbled under heavy uneven footsteps. Slipping her pistol into its holster, Hedwig rushed forwards, mind flitting out a line of alarm. 

“Trunnion!”

The legate’s metallic gaze snapped upwards with a hiss, latching onto the saint racing down the alleyway toward her. Hedwig drew near and the legate’s condition came to light. Loud pops and metallic sounds accompanied her jagged limp and she was cradling an arm across her body, thick oil spilling through her fingers. Lurching forwards, cogwork squealed as erratic ticks of malfunctioning gears gave the mekhanite uncontrollably jerky mannerisms. 

“You,” Trunnion’s grinding tone was an unusual screechy grate, the high note wavering on the edge of weakness. Hedwig stopped short, reaching out with concerned hands as Trunnion’s entire frame shuddered, splashes of bronze oil spilling over the concrete. Various scratches littered the polished metal of her forearms and the source of loose oil seemed to be from several misaligned gears in her joints. Hedwig’s eyes darted upwards, noting the legate’s missing hat, the slash through the metal tubes running down her neck and the sizable dent in the temple of her bronze skull. 

“What happened?” Hedwig urged, reigning in the impulse to place her hands on Trunnion’s forearms and help balance out her sideways frame. The other would not appreciate such gestures. Trunnion unconsciously swayed for a moment before she managed out a grating hiss between diamond-tipped teeth.

“Meeting place was compromised. Sarkics. Much stronger than any of us anticipated.”

Hedwig blinked. 

“And what happened to the others that went with you?” 

“Broken. It wasn’t a karcist that showed like we expected–no it was–much too powerful,” she explained choppily between the steady ticks of the pocket watch settled in her eye socket. She swayed dangerously on her feet, the exposed wires in her neck hazardously sparking. There was a flinch as mechanical joints suddenly jerked sideways and the legate went crashing obliquely into the nearest wall.

A deafening clatter of clashing metal ricocheted down the alleyway and Hedwig surged forward in a haze of alarm, latching onto Trunnion’s bronze wrist. It was a poor attempt at steadying the other mekhanite and Hedwig instead went spiraling sideways, the sheer weight of Trunnion’s solid metal frame dragging her along.

Trunnion limply sagged against the wall, limbs jerking uncontrollably as she struggled to gather herself together. 

“Off–get off–” between the spasming of joints Trunnion shoved the saint’s fingers off her forearm. 

“I’m trying to help,” Hedwig half-growled, eyes narrowing into thin red slits. 

“You stay away–” Trunnion furiously ground her jaw. “–I know you–you’ll mess everything up more. On purpose.”

The accusation flitted by the saint without its intended effect. 

“Please, you’re malfunctioning.” 

“ _ I  _ am  _ fine _ –Don’t you dare try and tell  _ me  _ anything about  _ my _ cogwork, heretic.”

Trunnion made a valiant attempt to push away from the wall but her knees immediately crumpled, sparks flying as gears clashed against brick in a painful screech. 

Hedwig hastily lurched forwards and shoved her hands under the legate’s armpits, bracing herself as she tried to slow the other mekhanite’s crash to hard pavement. With another uncontrollable spasm, Trunnion ended up smacking the back of her skull against the wall and a pained hiss of steam curled between her teeth. Hedwig winced, slowly lowering the other mekhanite to the ground. Then she gingerly untangled her forearms from around Trunnion’s chest and sat back on her haunches with a short exhale of relief. 

She blinked, studying the broken legate crumpled against the wall beside her under the shadows of the dim alleyway. Trunnion’s limbs continued to spasm and she struggled with turning her head to observe the concerned saint squatting beside her. 

Hedwig shook out her palms, scattering droplets of the legate’s oil off her fingers before a dim green hologram sprang to life in her hand, running a new stream of commands. Trunnion warily eyed the saint as she inched closer and raised the hologram as a light source. Squinting, Hedwig leaned over and intently peered at the malfunctioning mechanics of the legate’s bronze arm. For a brief moment, silence settled over the two mekhanites, save for the faint ticking of Trunnion’s watch. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Trunnion’s grating bark shattered the momentary quiet. 

“Running diagnostics. You’re in no state to walk and we have a schedule to keep with Bumaro,” Hedwig informed her shortly, symbols and data streaming down the edges of her vision as she examined the damaging marks along Trunnion’s exoskeleton. A puddle of oil was beginning to pool around her legs across the concrete.

“And you’re going to fix me?” The brief grating clash that emanated from the legate’s skull sounded like a snort. 

“I could just leave you breaking down on the streets,” Hedwig paused, glancing down at the hologram whirring in her palm. She was flicking through the acquired data with one metallic fingertip. “I bet the Foundation would be more than willing to give you a lift to one of their lovely facilities for treatment,” she observed drily. Trunnion’s jaw snapped shut in furious acceptance and she fell into stubborn silence. 

Satisfied with the legate’s wordless response, Hedwig folded away the hologram she’d been pouring over. Then she extended both of her hands outwards, her palms blazing with a blinding blue light. Digi-construction was still a relatively new maxwellist technology and more often than not the finished product had a few rough edges. However with the current situation at hand, Hedwig didn’t have time for perfection. She ran through the various binary code in her head and within seconds a slightly warped wrench and a coil of bronze wire rested in her palms. 

Trunnion eyed the items in her palms with heavy skepticism. Hedwig set down the wrench and began uncoiling the bronze wire. 

“I’ll fix your neck wiring first since I think the connection’s gone bad and it's what’s making you flail around everywhere. Then I’ll put a patch on the leaky arm joints and we can be off,” Hedwig explained, gingerly leaning forwards and peering intently the other mekhanite’s uncontrollably twitching limbs. 

“Like you can actually do anything–” Trunnion struggled to hold still as shudders wracked her metal frame. “–but be my guest.” She tipped her chin back and ground her teeth together in heated frustration. 

Hedwig meticulously maneuvered her hands over to the exposed wires at Trunnion’s neck. The protective bronze tubes that ran the length of the legate’s throat and encompassed the central wiring had been shattered in several places, exposing the complicated mass of wires bunched together inside. Hedwig’s modified vision was of great assistance in this moment and she was able to instantly identify the few severed wires among the tangled mass. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as sparks flew from split wire ends and brushed against her metal fingers. Pinching together the ends of three different wire pairs yielded instant results. The choppy grinding of gears and spasms of Trunnion’s metal frame promptly ceased. 

“Well, it looks like I  _ can  _ do something,” Hedwig observed sardonically, raising her eyebrows to meet Trunnion’s glaring metal gaze. 

“Feh, luck,” the legate spat, begrudgingly tipping her chin back upward to stare at the sky. “I don’t see why you care,” she hissed as Hedwig began gingerly securing the wires together using the bronze coil of wire. “You take every chance to hurt me. What’s this, a sudden change of heart?”

Hedwig paused, hands falling still. She gazed sightlessly down at the wires between her fingers. 

“That’s not fair.”

“Oh really?”

Silver brows knit into a frown as an unwarranted twinge of guilt somberly flitted across the saint’s mind.

“You know I couldn’t...dealing with the Factory, the Sarkic resurgence and divided forces all at once was too much. We  _ both _ agreed that it would be better for us if we split up. Everything in the universe is too unstable, there’s no time for feelings.”

Hedwig hesitated, glancing up to meet Trunnion’s metallic gaze. 

“It was not an easy decision, believe me, I know. And it doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you.”

For a moment, Hedwig held Trunnion’s unwavering gaze before the saint’s eyes dropped downwards once more and she busied herself looping off the final section of wires. There was a dull ache somewhere, rusting through the pieces of Hedwig’s chestplate. She forced down her own unspoken regrets, finishing her work on the thick coils of Trunnion’s neck. The legate was silent too–which came as no surprise. Trunnion had never been one to properly process her emotions. Her jaw was clenched shut and she was furiously flexing the golden joints of her clawed fingers, squeezing her palms into fists. 

Finished with mending Trunnion’s spliced wires, Hedwig wiped her brow with a short sigh of relief, satisfied with her handiwork. The legate had ceased uncontrollably twitching, for now. Hedwig leaned back and placed down the remains of her wire coil before picking up the warped wrench. 

“Arm please,” the saint instructed. Trunnion begrudgingly held out her left arm, oil spilling from the loose seam along her inner forearm and spattering the toes of Hedwig’s boots. The legate tensed as Hedwig reached out and gripped her leaking elbow in order to steady it. Hedwig grasped the slightly warped wrench in her other hand and set to work in light silence, save for the creaks and squeaks of metal. 

She examined the newfound gaps along the inner seams of Trunnion’s exoskeleton at the joint. Carefully twisting the wrench, she gingerly tinkered with the finer mechanics of the joint in order to realign smaller parts and seal up the damage. 

As Hedwig fiddled with the legate’s mechanics, the two gradually fell into a more comfortable silence. By the time Hedwig had finished repairing Trunnion’s first joint, the legate’s initial stiffness and hostility toward the other mekhanite had mellowed out. Instead of spewing a sharp mechanical grumble toward the saint, she wordlessly passed over her other arm for Hedwig to fix. Hedwig worked in silence as she intently concentrated on the delicate task at hand. Although she was no maxwellist surgeon by any means, she could at least patch up some bent metal. 

In a matter of minutes she finished sealing up the open seams in Trunnion’s other arm and instructed the legate to test out the integrity of her patched joints. When Trunnion experimentally swung her arms and there was no more oil leaking from her plating, Hedwig deemed her handiwork to be satisfactory and tossed her wrench away, the tool clattering against the cracked pavement. She paused and sat back on her silver heels, shaking off flakes of metal and oil from her fingers. 

The ringing sound of grinding gears filled the quiet alley and Hedwig’s head whipped up to watch Trunnion as she began moving to pick herself up off the ground. 

“Wow, not even a ‘thank you?’” Hedwig chided incredulously. Trunnion paused, one leg already beneath her as she prepared to stand. With a few wayward sparks from her patched neck, she glanced over at the saint. Her gaze hardened. 

“For what? Something I coulda easily done myself?” She scoffed. “For fixing a couple loose screws?”

Hedwig’s gaze softened, riddled with slight exasperation. She sighed and inched closer. 

“By WAN, you’re infuriatingly stubborn,” she muttered, reaching over and gently settling her glowing blue palms on Trunnion’s cheekbones–one bronze and warm and the other synthetically smooth and warm. The legate didn’t flinch nor pull away from the other mekhanite’s light touch, instead she regarded the saint with a steady intrigued stare. 

Something warm swirled somewhere in the saint’s chestplate as she felt Trunnion lean into her touch. The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of Hedwig’s lips and she quickly leaned over, pressing a chaste kiss to the other mekhanite’s bronze temple. Then, after a passing moment she leaned back and evenly regarded the legate’s bronze, searching gaze. 

“I…” Hedwig faltered, suddenly uncertain. She blinked, searching for the right words to fit the moment, eyes shifting downwards to avoid the other mekhanite’s gaze. “I just...never stopped caring about you...you know that?” She muttered at last, lifting her gaze as her thumb affectionately ran the length of Trunnion’s bronze cheekbone. 

“Figured as much,” Trunnion rumbled, the noise mimicking the sounds of her own internal cogwork. Her gaze flickered downward for the fraction of an instant and Hedwig sighed, unable to resist any longer. She leaned in, tilting slightly off center in order to press a kiss against the warm synthetic side off the legate’s expression. The intact half of Trunnion’s lips met hers and her eyes fluttered shut, drinking in the warm metallic aura radiating off the legate and seeping into her own metal frame. The clawed tips of Trunnion’s yellow fingers combed through her locks and Hedwig flushed, something akin to giddy elation rising through her. 

She’d missed her legate. 

A sudden loud buzzing abruptly interrupted the moment, much to both mekhanite’s irritation. Trunnion appeared jarred by the unexpected vibration against her face emitting from Hedwig’s neon colored palms. Hedwig’s eyes flew open and she abruptly scrambled back, snatching her hands away from Trunnion’s slightly disoriented expression. 

“Sorry! Sorry–someone’s calling–shit let me get this–worst timing ever–hold on–” Hedwig fumbled backwards on her heels for a moment before she regained her balance and hastily answered the call. Trunnion rubbed her temple muttering an inaudible string of curses about newfangled maxwellist gadgets. 

In Hedwig’s palm, the call line opened and she was greeted by a miniature blue hologram bust of none other than His Holiness Robert Bumaro. 

“Brother!” Hedwig blinked in surprise. Then her expression contorted into a mixture of mild concern and confusion. 

“What’s going on? Are you back at the Church yet?”

“No but I’ll be along soon. I was just checking up on you,” the miniature version of Bumaro warbled through the hologram. 

“Oh me? I’m fine,” Hedwig squinted at the pixels, noting his slightly disheveled appearance and steel strands of hair free-flowing over his shoulders. 

“Are  _ you _ okay? That grand karcist didn’t get too many hits on you, did he? What happened with all that?” 

Bumaro waved a dissimissive metal hand at the saint’s flurry of eager questioning. 

“I'm perfectly unscathed, thank you. I beat the grand karcist and he ran. I lost his trail at the city’s edge,” he replied, metallic gaze rather hollow and empty. An incoherent, indignant-sounding exclamation sounded through the call line and Bumaro’s two-toned expression immediately hardened.

“–And I’m taking a moment to recover at the safehouse! I’ll be along to the church shortly!” Bumaro exclaimed, shooting a fiery sideways glare at someone obviously just out of frame. Hedwig’s eyebrows rose at the priest’s snappy change in demeanor. 

“Who else is there with you?” 

“Nobody!” Bumaro’s gaze returned to the call line. The metallic buzzing note in his voice quelled back to a carefully controlled neutral tone. “Just the local agent we stationed nearby.” 

Hedwig blinked, wracking her brain for the memory stores of the agent assigned to this city. She couldn’t quite locate the file. 

“Uh...”

“I will be returning to the Church shortly,” the priest hastily interrupted. “I’ll meet you and sister Trunnion there–” Bumaro’s voice was cut short as the line abruptly went dead. Hedwig closed her palm and glanced up with raised eyebrows, meeting Trunnion’s equally bemused gaze.

“Mm. For a prophet he’s not subtle. Definitely up to something,” the legate observed, narrowing her glaring orange eye. Hedwig paused for a moment as she clicked together pieces of information. She cracked a sly grin as an idea suddenly dawned on her. 

“What do you bet he’s seeing someone?” 

There was a loud clash of gears as Trunnion snickered. 

“Hah! Good one! He’s a stuck up priest-as if anyone could actually take interest in that emotionless rusting shell of his.”   
  


“Well-you’ve got a point there,” the saint considered decidedly, brushing off her robes and rising to her feet. “But whatever. We’ve still gotta get moving. We can interrogate him back at the Church,” Hedwig declared, stealing a downward glance at Trunnion still slumped against the wall. 

“Do you need a hand?” 

A hiss of steam curled around the edges of the legate’s studded teeth. 

“No.”

With the noisy sounds of grinding cogwork, Trunnion slowly peeled herself off the wall, gathering her boots beneath her. A hand flew out to stabilize against the bricks as she unsteadily rose onto heavy legs. Hedwig skeptically observed the legate gingerly testing out the integrity of her formerly malfunctioning feet. At last she stole no more than a single step forwards when her joints gave a great shudder and Hedwig immediately materialized at her side. 

Trunnion huffed and begrudgingly accepted the saint’s aid, leaning against her for support as Hedwig secured an arm around her torso. The two began to unsteadily move forwards in small increments, the legate’s heavy frame throwing both mekhanites off balance. They began to half-stumble their way down the dark alleyway up toward the Main Street, a trail of cracked concrete in their wake. After several accidental incidents of tripping and toe trodding, the two managed to find a suitable rhythm just as they approached the mouth of the street.

Hedwig glanced over at the legate. 

“Can I get a ‘thank you’ now?” 

“Hell no,” Trunnion grumbled. Hedwig rolled her eyes, reaching over with her free hand and playfully smacking the legate’s bronze shoulder. “I’ll get it out of you one day.” 

In turn Trunnion muttered a low string of metallic curses and Hedwig laughed, stumbling as the unstable duo emerged on the vacant night streets. 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this because im gay and i want a cyborg girlfriend :)


End file.
